Temporary Home
by dbzgirlxo
Summary: The orphanage has been filled while Tom was away at Hogwarts. He returns and is furious to discover where he'll be staying for the summer holidays. Of course, he's also curious and a bit tempted to cause some trouble of his own. What's changed? And why now? R&R to find out.
1. Chapter 1

A rather agitated Tom Riddle rode along in a carriage, heading for Wool's Orphanage. He had gone through this for the past few years, leaving Hogwarts for the summer holidays. Most of his classmates looked forward to this "joyful" time but he dreaded it, having to go back to live with filthy muggles. He wasn't one of them, not at all. The fact that he resided with them, for three months, was pathetic.

The horse's large steps were hard to ignore, though he attempted to start some potion's reading before he entered his temporary "home". The thought of ignoring his reading bothered him greatly, but he would have to. He was never one to slack on his schoolwork, he had the best mark in his year. But If the muggles spotted it, he could be expelled. '_Might as well kill them all_' he thought, a smirk growing on his lips. The carriage stopped suddenly, Tom immediately spotting Mrs. Cole. He clenched his fists and stepped out, taking his trunk from the driver.

"Mr. Riddle, lovely to see you!" She smiled.

He was very aware that this was a lie but didn't say a word, at all. Walking toward the annoyingly familiar door, he stopped as she placed a hand on his shoulder. A muggle, touching him.

"Why don't you head to my office, Tom? We must talk."

The young man nodded, shaking her hand off as he stepped inside the doors. Cole's office wasn't far, just down the hall. The walls were covered with pictures, which were covered in thick dust. There was a small desk, with an office chair. In front of it, there were two smaller chairs and a tea set setting on the desk before them.

"Have a nice school year, Tom?" The woman smiled weakly, pouring them both some tea.

"I suppose." He spoke quietly, glancing around the small room. Nobody in the orphanage knew where Tom went during the year, they expected it was an advanced boarding school, off in London. Well, that was what they were told by Dumbledore. The thought of the annoying old man made his eyebrows furrow.

"Now, I bet you're wondering why I brought you here..." She began, sliding over his teacup. "We have had some additions while you were away, two large families to be precise."

Tom glanced to the teacup, not moving as Mrs. Cole went on.

"We're lacking beds and food supplies, only for the summer, mind you. A few others with temporary spots left yesterday."

"I don't have any family." Tom told her, icily. He knew where this was going.

"I knew this, Mr. Riddle. I've done some research and located your father and grandparents, they'd be more than happy to have you for the holidays."

Tom glared at her. "Don't lie to me. They've never given a damn, they're filthy m-." He stopped himself, taking a quick sip of tea, his expression calm but his eyes burning with anger.

Mrs. Cole didn't bother to ask. "I know, Tom. Feelings change, they're very stable and kind people. You would be under a wonderful roof."

"And there was nobody else?" He exhaled, trying to control his rage.

"There was." She picked up a paper, marked with a tea stain. "Morfin Gaunt, your mother's brother. We've walked by his home, it's in no order for a child."

The dark-haired boy rose an eyebrow. "And who's decided this?"

"Myself and the staff." Mrs. Cole cleared her throat. "You're fifteen, Riddle. We can't legally let you walk out of here, without knowing you're safe."

His familiar smirk reappeared at this. Safe? Honestly, a bunch of weak and defenseless muggles, keeping him safe? It was quite funny.

He avoided eye contact, as if it would give him a disease. "There's no choice?" He asked, knowing he would leave, given the chance.

"I'm afraid not, dear."

He cringed at the pet name, shaking his head. "I'll go." Surprising himself, he shrugged for assurance. There was a reason his "family" wanted him now and it wasn't "love". Wanting nothing more than to vomit, Tom stood up. "When do I leave?"

The boy was more than curious to find out this reason, not to mention...ruining his father's name wouldn't hurt either. Maybe he could meet his uncle.

"This evening, grab something from the kitchens, you're thin as ever."

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><p><strong><em>The story's just begun, there will be several surprises in the next few and later chapters. Review!<em>**


	2. Chapter 2

The dark haired boy stood stiffly in front of the orphanage, his hands rested in the pockets of his trousers, a look of annoyance clear across his face. It was just his luck, really. Being trapped in a house full of disgusting muggles. Muggles who thought they were too good for him, at that. Ha. Idiots. Something told him that there was more to their intentions. And he was simply intrigued to find out. It wasn't as though the boy had a choice either way. He couldn't leave the orphanage as he wished. He was underage in both the wizarding and filthy muggle world. Had he try to pull this stunt and most definitely succeed, Dumbledore would know.

The old man had a knack for irritating the young man. It seemed that he was constantly watching and knew his every movement. Of course, he couldn't have known every movement. Afterall, Tom had done several supposedly inappropriate things at school and the wise old man hadn't caught him once. There have been suspicions but nothing further. The boy couldn't risk being expelled from Hogwarts. It was the one place that he could get away from the vermin and be among people who were almost equal to himself. The wizarding school was his path to greatness and he wasn't about to destroy that to become a runaway. So there he stood, his school trunk at his side and his worn out school shoes planted firmly on the ground below him.

Minutes went by and he found himself growing impatient. Impatient was usually an emotion that came with excitement or anticipation. However, Tom's reasoning was very simple-he was annoyed. _Who were they to keep him waiting? Did these fools honestly believe that they were so special they didn't have to be on time?_

"Tch." He pulled a hand from his pocket and ran said hand through his thick and perfectly shaped locks. Then, as if on cue, a shining black 2-door Ford car was approaching him. The new wheels sent dust misting from the dirt road and Tom could only scoff at the sight. It was very cliche, in his opinion. The automobile was a new model, clearly, one of the best. It looked like every other automobile he had seen before and that wasn't many. What pride muggles got from these inventions was just ridiculous.

Finally, the car came to a stop and a tall, lanky man stepped out of the driver's seat. He was dressed in a faded suit and wore torn gloves which he clasped together after shutting the door. "Do we have a Mr. Riddle here?" The muggle asked, stepping forward with a well rehearsed smile across his chapped lips. "Mr. Riddle?" He spoke again before walking around the car. It was then that he spotted Tom, standing there silently with an emotionless expression painted on his face. The man blinked at the young man before him, almost in suprise. "My, the resemblance is uncanny, isn't it?"

"What?" Tom spoke his first words to the goofy man, slowly lifting an eyebrow. His exterior was calm and unconcerned, his arms resting carelessly at his sides.

"I must apologize, lad." He cracked a wide grin, approaching the boy who stood before him. Tom stood his ground, staring boredly at the man as he went on. "I must say, you look an awful lot like your father! Yes, Master Riddle is quite the looker which would be a compliment to you, aye? I'm Ralph." The middle aged man picked up Tom's trunk, his thin arms surprisingly lifting it with ease. "Is this all then?"

Tom slid a hand back into the pocket of his trousers and clenched his fist, already annoyed by the mention of his "father." _Who did this moron think he was throwing around such terms?_ "That's all." He stated, shifting his eyes to the shiny car that was supposed to be impressive. Tom had never been in a car before. The orphanage was much too poor to afford one. Hell, most muggles were too poor to afford one-not that they were missing out on anything.

"You're not much of a talker, are you?" Ralph continued as he loaded the trunk into the car, unaware that he was agitating the boy. Tom was much too good at hiding his emotions. He was known to be quite the charmer, when he wanted to be. "There's no problem in that, Tom, is it?" He smiled a genuine smile and opened the passenger door. "I'll be taking you to the manor now, if you'd like."

Tom nodded and reluctantly stepped into the car, resting his back against the leather seat. It was nothing special, as he had originally suspected. The car smelled of cigars and overbearing perfume. Something told him that the family's home would smell somewhat the same. _They stink_._ It's to be expected._ He thought, fighting back the smirk that wanted to dance it's way onto his lips.

As he shook these thoughts away, the older man had already started the contraption and was pulling away from Wool's Orphanage. _Good riddance_.

"You're a bit tall for your age, aren't ya?" He steered, glancing over at Tom curiously. "Mr. Riddle Sr. and Madam Riddle said that you were fifteen."

_Riddle Sr? Were these people honestly so full of themselves that they had to use the same name repeatedly? That was annoying. And fifteen? Lovely. Cole was always mistaking Tom for a year younger than he really was. It was one of the several things about the woman that he despised. _Tom cleared his throat in a polite manner, staring in front of him as he answered the man's question. "I'm sixteen, actually. I just completed my fifth year of boarding school." He mused, resisting the urge to scoff at how easily wooed the muggle was and how his eyes lit up.

Ralph only nodded, smiling as he assumed the boy was coming out of his 'shy' stage and becoming 'comfortable' with him. "A boarding school, aye? I went to one myself. Of course, that was more than several years ago." He laughed obnoxiously and turned the wheel again, taking them down a neatly bricked roadway, located within an enclosed but decent sized village. There were groups of people walking off and on, shopping and conversing. _Muggles_.

Unimpressed but slightly curious, Tom glanced out the window and shook his head. _What's the point in having one of these things if you're going to take your precious time? They would have been better off walking. He hadn't asked for the scenic route._

Once again, Ralph interrupted his thoughts with his overly excited and irritating speaking voice. "The manor ahead, it's on that hill." He pointed which honestly wasn't necessary, seeing as there was only one hill in front of them. The manor was large and built elegantly, probably one of the finest looking of the area. Tom wasn't impressed-only disgusted and he felt a bit of rage boiling in the pit of his stomach. His eyebrows furrowed momentarily as he stared at the home in front of him. This soon faded, though, and was easily replaced with his calm and emotionless stature. He wouldn't be affected by some muggles. Not a chance.

"And here we are." He smiled that rehearsed smile as he pulled into the long driveway. He then stopped the car and got out, walking to the back of the car to retrieve Tom's trunk.

Tom sat there for a moment before slowly exiting the vehicle, giving a slow and unenthusiastic glance around.

"Lovely, isn't it?" Ralph chirped in while carrying the trunk to the front door. "It's the usual spot for dinner parties and soirees. You'll love it, m'boy!"

_Being surrounded by a bunch of muggles. Not likely._ Tom only nodded, though, keeping up his charade. "I can't wait." He spoke dully, his eyes still roaming the village around them. He couldn't help but to be curious. His uncle would be around here somewhere and he wanted to meet him as soon as possible. Cunning, Tom always received what he desired. Ralph had disappeared from sight and Tom rolled his eyes, knowing that the busy body had most likely went inside. _Some butler. _He focused his hazel eyes on the wooden door frame ahead of him and smirked slightly, strolling right on inside. He was a guest, afterall.

The house was equally grand indoors, with a large staircase, polished marble floors, and that same stomach-churning scent of cigars and perfume. There were rows of pictures hung along the staircase, mostly of a young boy who looked very similar to Tom. He stepped forward and stared at the photographs for a moment. The boy had to have been at least eighteen in this particular photo. His hair was dark and well-groomed like Tom's but was much silkier and straight, lacking the thick waves that Tom had been born with. The facial features were undeniably similar, unfortunately. The man in the photo's nose was shaped exactly like Tom's. His eyes were about the same, if not more lively and his cheekbones and thick eyebrows matched up as well. He was slightly beefier, too. Though, this was probably from being fed properly as a child, unlike Tom.

The boy scoffed and turned away from the photograph, just in time to see an elderly woman descending the staircase with and elderly man in tow. They were both dressed in fancy threads that had probably only been worn once before. Tom resisted the urge to curse their snooty arses off and took a step back, politely making room for them to pass through. The elderly man wasn't much of a looker and it was difficult to tell if he ever had been. His hair was dark like Tom's but was graying very quickly and he had a mustache that didn't quite suit him at all. He was bulky with broad shoulders and had a bit of a gut, probably from drinking. The woman had pale blonde hair which was most likely dyed now to cover the gray hair, seeing as there were crow's feet on each side of her face. She had probably been very beautiful once before, her eyes and her cheekbones resembling Tom's. _These two geezers had to be the grandparents. _Tom thought and fought back a look of disgust as he charmingly extended a hand to them.

"I'm Tom. Your server, Ralph, had brought me here. I've seem to have lost track of him." He spoke in that nonchalant and careless tone of his, an actual smile forming on his face. Tom was the only one who was aware that this smile was fake.

The man stepped forward first and scanned Tom, giving him the same expression that Ralph had at the orphanage. Surprise. Perhaps, they hadn't expected a bloody orphan to be so well-mannered and handsome, possibly handsomer than their own son. At last, the man grasped his extended hand and shook it firmly. "Thomas." He intoduced himself, his mustache falling over his lips as he spoke. It was disturbing and almost humorous to think that this man thought so highly of himself. _He was a joke._

"Pleasure, sir." Tom smirked one of his genuine smirks as he let go of his grandfather's hand, taking a step back as another man descended the staircase and stared at the young man, in shock.

He looked about mid-thirties and wore an extraordinarily fitted tux. His straight and silky dark locks were combed properly and his facial structure was an aged version of Tom's.

"Hello, sir. I'm Tom. Tom Riddle but I'm sure you know that."

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><p><strong><em>I haven't updated in a long time. My apologies! I was watching GOF recently and got some inspiration to continue. Please review and I'll try to have the next chapter up very <em>****_soon!_**

_xo_


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